In Newcastle for a LitPop conference about which I will say little for reasons of intellectual copyright, except to say that I had a great time. Everyone was friendly and used words like “whilst.” One of the highlights was Dr. Sheila Whiteley talking about Morrissey. “Here. Something pretty for you to look at while I talk”: Continue reading
Tag Archives: travel
Nay, an this be hell, I’ll willingly be damn’d here: Doctor Faustus at The Globe Theatre
Now that I’ve been there, I realise it would be a waste to visit London without seeing a play performed at the Globe. Even on a backpacker’s budget I’m sure one can afford 5 pounds to stand with the rabble surrounding the stage instead of paying up to 37.50 for the seats with the least obstructed views. I had one of perhaps the absolute best seats in the house purely by chance Continue reading
Dear Halifax, I have gone away for a spell. As much as I have been starting to like you, I needed to travel again. I can never sit still for long.
I had intended to jump on a train to Wales as soon as I arrived at London’s Gatwick airport at 4 a.m. so that I could wander around “a few miles above Tintern Abbey” and be back in London to fall asleep for a good many hours. Online, I had seen fares that seemed reasonable for such a hefty excursion, but in person they wanted 100.50 quid!! One way! I thanked them kindly and then took the train into London to leave my bag at my hostel and hopefully find my way to Stonehenge instead. Continue reading
Writing about Travelling
As you may have noticed, I am posting things again on Write with Lightning after the successful conclusion of yet another journey overseas. I’ve travelled a lot, and I am always tempted immediately after a trip to write about it. I had less inclination to write a narrative of my time in Ireland because I already wrote it in my Wanderlust Ireland blog, but I still wanted to write about travel in general and my experiences as a world traveller—that is, the customs I absorb and the people whose lives I visited. I don’t have anything more profound to tell you about the famous sights I’ve seen than anyone else who has also seen them. The Eiffel Tower is brown. The Circus Maximus is a beer bottle littered field. Oscar Wilde’s grave is covered in lipstick kisses. Angkor Wat is old. Bethlehem is a slum. Continue reading
This is an important but intense entry. Readers be warned.
From Oct. 15, 2009 (written in stages throughout the day)
I am at Tuol Sleng (Genocide) Museum in Phnom Penh. Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge converted the school into a prison where they tortured and killed political enemies and their families. The Khmer Rouge documented their crimes with mug shots and photographs of emaciated victims. The photographs now line the rooms of the school-cum-prison-cum-museum. The city has done an incredible job with this minimalistic approach. A brochure and a few signs are adequate for background, and guides are available if desired; however, the way in which I have silently roamed the “classrooms” is, I believe, the most profound. The eyes of the victims captivated me. Especially the eyes of the women. Continue reading